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by Tessa Grey

the hands
that are made of flesh
want to touch a shard of laughing light
when it catches in the spaces between the leaves
alive, the way I never saw the corners of your eyes
get blurry the way I wished they would

I know better than to go chasing
If I want to catch it
I'll have to stand in the right place
and wait, breathe next to the tree
whisper to the bark and kiss it's rough edges

And it all seems like such a good idea
waiting around in the shade
till the sun, in its perfect grace
gives a halo to something with roots

so that someone with eyes can witness
and fall in want of love
for one moment, reach for that adornment
teach her flesh to coax the soil fresh
its roots to move beyond the stone

what satisfaction is there in waiting?
scraping her palms against the trunk, laughing for it
sleeping in the grooves between its roots
patient for the intangible

What is flesh cannot hold
a mystery made of earth and sky.


Posted on 12/29/2010
Copyright © 2022 Tessa Grey

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 12/29/10 at 03:16 PM

Phenomenal language and tone punching through this whole thing. The finished image it paints is impressive indeed.

Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 12/20/13 at 05:55 PM

I like so much about this POTD, but especially the marriage of flesh and soil and sunlight and bark and roots. To me there is something quite magical about that third stanza. Thank you. Fav, for sure.

Posted by Steve Michaels on 12/20/13 at 11:49 PM

Congrats on your POTD! This: "the way I never saw the corners of your eyes get blurry the way I wished they would"

Posted by Tony Whitaker on 12/21/13 at 06:21 PM

Wow. I have not been to the siet in a while. It is good tom see there remains good writers here. I love the imagery and the mood set by your metaphors! Brilliant Tessa!

Posted by George Hoerner on 12/22/13 at 01:21 AM

You've done a great job with this piece. Very, very, nice!

Posted by Clara Mae Gregory on 12/23/13 at 03:24 PM


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